Workout Slug

It's not that I hate all physical activity.
In fact I don't even hate working out.

What I HATE is getting started.

Figuring out what I'm going to do.  Finding the time to do it.  Getting dressed to do it.  ACTUALLY STARTING IT.

The fatigue doesn't help.  MS fatigue isn't the same as being a tired Mommy.  For me - I guess it's more like having the flu.  Where every part of your body is heavy and weak.  Taking a full breath is an effort, and joints are telling you that there is absolutely no lubrication available.  It has nothing to do with the amount of sleep you're getting. Honestly there are days I'd like to punch someone in the nose for suggesting it's that simple, but I'd be embarrassed to show just how drained I am by the cartoon noodle flail that would come from the attempt.

Yes exercise would help. . . eventually.  But the first few weeks are not going to be pretty.

About two weeks ago the fatigue became a serious issue.  I was doing my required penance in my son's preschool class, and about half way through, it hit.  I've since come across the MS/Punching Bag analogy.  http://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/ms-punching-bag/  And that's very much what it was like.  Like I'd been blind-sided by a heavy bag I didn't even know was in the room.  If you've ever been in a bouncy-house obstacle course for any length of time you've probably felt it.  You're having a good time and "WHAM" something slams into you and you're flopping like a fish with your head spinning and no ability you get yourself upright.  Except instead of trying to catch myself on sticky rubberized canvas I was propping myself up in the teacher's rocking chair while my head spun and rolled.  I did my best to smile and not look like death until it was time to go, and then I flopped into bed and passed out till the older son got out of school.  Whereupon, since I woke feeling so refreshed I told the BF that I would take the 8 minute walk to get him.

It didn't go well.  The next day wasn't much better.

After a few days of feeling so drained I wouldn't have been surprised to look in the mirror only to find the muscles had melted to the point I looked like a shar-pei I sent an email to the Doctor.  A week later I was walking out of Kaiser with a new drug and new puncture wounds.  And so far it seems to be working.  I feel like I'd been trying to function with a wet comforter draped over me (and wrapped around my brain)  and it's been removed. . . right up till about 3 o'clock when it wears off.

Anyway, the point was that I'm doing better and the thought of spending energy on a workout doesn't make me want to cry.  Now all I have to do is find the motivation to get started.  Anyone out there got human jumper cables?  Or a time machine - if I can hop a couple weeks in the future and see myself surviving that should do the trick.

My little black cookbook

I have a little black notebook.  Just one of those spiral bound basics that is about the size of half a sheet of paper and come in packs of 3 for a buck when it's a good sale.  Inside are recipes. Some handwritten, some cut out of magazines.  I trim them (and the picture if there is one) to fit on the page and glue them down with super-cheap dollar store glue sticks.  I started this for two reasons.  First was that I was swimming in individual torn-out pages from magazines, with food, or ideas that I wanted to save and try later.  (I have a separate blue notebook for the non-food stuff)  Secondly was that my box of recipe cards was next to the sink at the old house. . . apparently soaking in a puddle for months without me being aware of it. Booooooo.  Buy the time I discovered this fact all the cards inside had moldy beards on the bottom half. There was no way I was going to keep them around the kitchen, but they were all tried-and-true stuff that I didn't want to just throw away.  I could have just re-written them on new cards, but I'm not crazy about the little suckers.  I like being able to scan up and down a recipe without having to flip it back and forth or heaven forbid turn the pages!  It's also become a fun side project for sitting in front of the TV, to trim and mount a few pages at a time.  The nice thing about using the really cheap glue is that if I try something and the family doesn't like it, I just rip it off the page and glue something else there instead.  Try doing that in one of the hard-bound cookbooks you paid good money for.  I've only recently started writing notes in my cookbooks - it goes against a lifetime of training to put a pen to a page inside a hardbound cover.

The reason this is on my mind is that I just came across http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com  and I've already printed out three new recipes - one of which I'll try tonight.  And while they are beautifully formatted and print out uniformly. . . I'm thinking they're way too big to put in my notebook  :(   I think with some creative trimming to them I might be able to cram them in. . . I suppose there is the multiple-page option as well.

Either way, I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow.  And while I prefer to come as close to scratch as I can manage considering I spend most of the day at work. The coming week the boys are going to be eating glorified junk food.  I've agreed to be Props Master for a production of "Deathtrap" and it's Hell Week.  So I will probably only be seeing them in the morning before school, and dinner will be prepared either by my brother or my boyfriend. . . Both of whom can manage hamburger helper or Mac and cheese, but asking them to throw a pound of frozen veg in is courting disaster.  Last week I came home to HH Beef Pasta with underdone baby lima beans mixed in *sigh* at least he tried.

Random food thought:
I've never made a "Brie en Croute". Brie cheese that has been wrapped in some variety of dough - usually with some sort of additional fruit/nut/spice filling.  The reason is - I would probably be unable to prevent myself from eating the entire gooey mess at once.  I loooooove gooey cheese.  I should make it for some event in the future where there will be a herd of people to help eat it and distract me. . . The problem is that it never pops into my head when appropriate.

Apoco-Eyes

A Rant about body parts that betray you.

This morning I made a horrible error.  I gave in to temptation.  I rubbed my eyes.

For some people that might be a normal part of the morning - "rubbing the sleep out of your eyes", Right?

Not for me.

When my allergies strike there are variations in severity.  And all are available in One, or Two eye varieties.

1. OmiGOD! are you Alright?  Do you have an Epi-Pen?!

(Both eyes nearly swollen shut, skin is bright red, generous wet and mucus-y looking discharge)

2.  Wow, that's a nasty case of pink-eye.

(pink- red and inflamed with controllable leaking)

3.  What's wrong/Why are/Have you been crying?

(puffy and getting red, minimal watering)

4.  Didn't you get any sleep last night?

(I look like I spent the night before on a bender and didn't wash my face before running out the door)

I very rarely get #1 anymore, which is a ringing endorsement for the benefits of allergy shots.  But when I was little it happened almost every time I played with a dog, or spent more than an hour in a house with one. I'm not sure if the runny nose that would follow was it's own reaction or just overflow from the eyes.  Either way it would get to the point where I was just too itchy and miserable to stand it anymore, and I would be dosed with a Histafed. . . which would both help with the reaction and knock me out in 15-20 minutes.  Which was even more awesome because I'd no longer be indulging in the vicious cycle of rubbing my eyes to stop the itching that felt like it was crawling into my brain, and enjoying the relief for a few seconds while super-irritated skin would take it's time re-filling with all the blood that I had just squeezed out.  It was like punching down rising bread dough.  The tears would congeal around the contaminants in my eyes and form thick ropy strands that I could feel every time I blinked. And my nose would run until I just held it pinched shut as hard as I could stand with a tissue.   Good times.

# 2 still happens a couple of times a year.  Usually when I'm drinking, or super-tired, or in some other way mentally incapacitated, and I RUB MY EYES.  One rub won't make it this bad,  but impaired judgement leads me to believe that "OOOoooh that felt sooooo good, doing it one more time won't hurt"  . . . I've never had a case of pink-eye, but I've been told that I must be wrong  about my allergies -that's positively pink-eye hundreds of times. . . I've never gotten an apology when hours (or the next day) later and my face is no longer possessed, for not believing me.  And #3 is pretty frequent, because it's so easy to rub something that itches without thinking about it. . . I reeeeally hate it when it happens and I'm wearing makeup - because now not only have I ground mascara into my undereyes  but they are now going to water and make it all so very much worse.  Which is why on days like today I just don't wear any at all.   It's hard to convince someone that you're really not crying if you're having to wipe tears away regularly.  Even the waterproof stuff has it's limits.   It's also lead to false accusations of being stoned, but lucky me this seems to be a one-eye at a time thing usually so pointing out that only one eye looks drug-addled ends it.

#4 is the fallout.  When after being swollen and miserable  it's like everything recedes and empties out.  Like a concert venue after a show it looks all the more empty, injured and used.

I rubbed my eyes at about 9am this morning, and took this around 4. . . and put some tinted moisturizer, concealer, and powder on after I was pretty sure they'd finished running.  I still resemble a character in a Tim Burton movie though.

A fun new variation is the make-up reaction.  Whenever I've got a new eye shadow or liner I've got 2-3 uses that will be reaction-free. . . I don't know why, I haven't figured out what the ingredient I'm reacting to is yet. But the swelling will start at the outer edge of one or both eyes and sometimes it waits to show up till the next morning.  If washing my face makes it feel like there's acid on my eyes something is getting tossed - which never makes me happy.  Sometimes I'll push it and use the product a time or two more.  But since every time the reaction is worse I know I'm risking having scabs for the next week on the inner corners of my eyes or just plain having lids that are so swollen they won't open very far.  On the other hand the lack of itching and watering is so very welcome that I'm OK looking like Quasimodo for a few days. . .because no amount of antihistamines or cold-compresses are going to make a dent in that reaction.   Weird.

Free Stuff!!: Sunkissed VoxBox from Influenster

Everybody loves a box full of free new products to try and complain rave about right?  I know I do.  I have trouble throwing the box it came in sometimes. . . Dagnabbit, the box I finally threw away yesterday would have been perfect for holding my collection of nail polish. . . Ok maybe 2/3s of the collection.  *sigh* too late now, I know for a fact that it was in the garbage before I skinned a dozen chicken drumsticks last night.  Yuck

Anyway, 

Inside the box were 4 products (joy!) 

1. Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel Insoles

2. Goody Hair Ouchless Ribbon Elastics

3. Olay Fresh Effects BB Cream

4.  SinfulColors SinfulShine in "Picante"

 First I set out to try the Olay BB Cream.  I love the idea of BB creams, but most leave me dissapointed.  They're just glorified tinted moisturizers.  The only one I've really been happy using as a base by itself is the Garnier version for OILY skin.  Is it so much to ask that I not have to repeatedly powder my forehead to keep it from looking like an oil slick?

Anyway, this stuff was thicker than average, not so much liquid, but not thick enough to be a "cream".  It was more the texture I imagine a mousse foundation to be.  The moisturizers were great, they absorbed and I didn't start out with a layer of oil to powder right off the bat.  So I didn't get that terrrrrible feeling of having wallpapered my face because my skin couldn't breathe.  In fact, if it hadn't been a 107 degree day it might  have actually kept the shine at acceptable levels.  I also loved the fact that the "Light to Medium" color was in fact, Light.  Normally the lightest shade still leaves my face a shade or two darker than my neck.

All that said, I was not wild about the level of coverage. (Note dubious expression on the 2nd pic)  It didn't really have enough pigment to cover the blemishes even with layering.  And while it evened out the overall skintone, I felt like it didn't make enough of a difference for it to really count as a base.  It also had an extremly strong fragrance.  Not unpleasant to me, but I know a few people who would have opened the tube and put it straight back into the box to return.  Olay should know better.

Overall, I don't like is AS MUCH as the product I'm using now.  But come winter, when my skin gets even paler than it is now and I won't sweat any makeup off that hasn't fused to my face. . . that may very well change.

Now, I love the Sinful Colors.  Because what nailpolish junkie with a tight budget doesn't love bottles that only cost 1-2 bucks.  And I recently splurged on a real, salon gel-manicure.  (twice, the shame!)  So, I had new-found appreciation for the super-powers of gel.  and this Sinful Colors/ Sinful Shine (with Geltech) Was a welcome experiment. There was a postcard included in the box, with a much darker red listed as "Picante" so I was hoping that it maybe would get darker as it dried.  Yeah, not so much.  It was a brilliant red that reminded me of when Crayola first issued its box of "Neon" crayons.  This was the Neon Red I remember.  Since I have naturally crap nails, and had just further made them sad by ripping off the gel polish myself (foil method was not a success)  I didn't give this polish a totally clean run.  I don't know how long it would have lasted on it's own, but with a coat of OPI "Nail Envy" as a base coat, 2 or 3 color coats, and "Gelous" on top, this paint job almost made it a week.  And that included trips to the pool.  And, bonus, removal was super-easy.  In fact painting the Gelous over the top left traces of pink on the brush.  Since it's just a dollar more than Sinful's regular line, I will be keeping an eye out for more colors.  

I even used it to add a heart to the "Clearly Spotted" nails,  which is such an insanely awesome polish that I may just get in an accident while driving if I don't do a better job of ignoring them.

So the Goody Hair Ouchless Ribbon Elastics are currently being tried out. . . OK not at this second. . . But you know what I mean.  Since I spend so much of my time with my hair in a ponytail I go through hairbands quickly.  My hair isn't stupidly thick (like my Mom's) but it IS fine, and I don't really use styling products, which makes it slippery.  And I hate having to re-tie my hair repeatedly, which is a problem if you put your ponytail up high enough to suspend it off your neck.  (Did I mention that it tried to be 108 but didn't quite make it?)  So I want something that holds tight, and usually the Goody brand has excellent no-slip features. These have a shimmery, almost mettalic outside, but the inner portion is kind-of felted, so they stayed put. (not counting the child-grabbing bit, nothing could have helped that)  But the lack of stretch has me concerned.  How long is this going to last?  I didn't immediately return to it's previous shape - which in regular elastics signals imminent death.  I'll just have to see if it can hold up to the demands of my life, and one wearing is not really going to give me enough data to form a definite opinion.     

I almost forgot the Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel Insoles.  Firstly, about my shoes. . . I may be a bit picky.  It wasn't always so. I was once a typical young female with a stupid number of shoes in my closet of many varieties.  I always wanted a snug fit - seeing pictures of women who are wearing shoes that will barely stay on their feet because the bought them two sizes too big so their toes wouldn't deform the front bugs the crap out of me.  I hate sliding feet. Even though I spend the summer in flip-flops I only buy ones that are balanced enough to cling to my feet without any effort on my part.  But I really had no requirements of shoes other than "Don't fall off".  That started to change when I was about 20.  I did a show that required me to do a lot of dancing, including a Viennese Waltz.  I had a very awesome set of cream colored period boots - with no arch support.  The day after the last show, my arches collapsed.  I don't remember how long I spent in ace bandages and sneakers, but I do remember getting to the last week of my Summer classes on the fourth floor had me in tears.  I had a few more episodes after that, but I learned quickly to be very aware of the arch support in shoes I was thinking about buying.  (Not being able to walk after a single aerobics class nails the point home)  The point of this rambling is to say that I do not currently have a pair of shoes compatible with these particular insoles.

I do have a set of high heeled-boots that I bought a different insole for but had not yet put them in, so I figured I might as well just install this set there. . .such a mistake.  I love these boots, and part of the reason I bought them was the aggressive arch.  They were purchased as part of a costume for a show I was doing at the San Francisco Fringe Festival - during which we stayed at the Y a number of blocks away. . . in the tenderloin . . . which is NOT a strolling/sightseeing area, especially in the wee hours of the morning.  I knew that there was going to be a whole lot of very aggressive walking in these boots and the only issue I've ever had is with the ball of my foot getting tender.  So I bought the insole for just the ball of your foot, I'll put them in later.   The Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel Insoles have very little ball cushioning, a moderate layer for the heel, and a whole LOT for the arch.  I like an strong arch, but the two together was overkill and my feet were decidedly grumpy at the end of the day.    Maybe I'll try them out on the next set of flip-flops I buy, the sticky adhesive on the back should hold them in place, right?  ;)

Man-Boy-Leach Rant

Yes.  The moving is finished.  Most of it was not accomplished in the way I would have liked but it's pretty much done.  Well. . . there are a few boxes floating around that need to be unpacked.   And the bookshelves need to be put into order so the actual books can go in them.  And my little brother needs to get off his rear and get a job.   I don't want to kick him out, but it seems like everytime I see him he's watching YouTube videos or equally timewasting.  There are a bunch of  things I'd love to have done around the apartment, but he's the kind of person who just shoves everything in the first open place he finds.  Having to re-organize the kitchen cupboards everytime he unloads the dishwasher suuuuuucks.  Especially since I know he pulled it out in the first place.  I've got plastic storage containers that stack. . . it takes 3 additional seconds to pull out the stack and stick it in the right place rather than cramming it on top.  He does watch the kids on occasion, and if I tell him what to make he'll take care of dinner. But he does not show initiative in anything.

Today I actually got on him a little bit about the job thing.  I pointed out 2 different job possibilities with family members (and M threw in a third) that he hadn't explored at all.  He thinks that since the family knows he's unemployed they would come to him if they had a job he could do.  I don't know about you, but even if he IS related I want to know he has enough drive to at the very least call me.  Nobody is going to drop a job into the lap of a 27 year-old man-child.  And I have been the primary supporter of my brother for the last three years,  even when he did have a job it wasn't enough for him to contribute meaningfully.  I feel a little bad because I'm trying to fix my issues before picking on anyone else's.  AND despite what he says M is also jobless and living there for all intents and purposes.  Of course M spent most of last year working and has another job lined up that is supposed to start next week.  If it doesn't he'll go out  and find something else, and Not sit there and mope for weeks before he gets around to looking for something else.  I'm sorry that my brother got a degree that is useless in this area - if he'd consider moving it wouldn't be an issue.  We weren't raised to be overly in touch with extended family, but for some reason the idea of getting out of one of the most economically depressed areas of the country scares him.  Still, why does he feel entitled to completely sponge off me?

I Other News, Recent Discovery:  NeuroSun tastes like sunscreen.  I was hoping for something lemony but instead got artificial pineapple/coconut.  :P  blarg

Focused on Panic Mode

I've got an excuse for being distracted this time.

I've been asked to move.

Short version: My cousin is an Asshole.

I've been living in my Grandmother's house since she moved to a retirement community three years ago.  My cousin moved into a house around the block around Thanksgiving.  In that time I've seen him twice. . . Both times when he wanted something.  The house he rented is owned by someone we've all known since we were kids.  Someone who has always been a Grand Flake.  So "Flake" decided that she was going to move in with her boyfriend and offered to rent her house to "Cousin Asshat" since his "family" (his girlfriend and her three kids) were living in a house that was too small, and they didn't like the school district.   Personally knowing Flake, I would have gotten a rental contract or lease in the first place.   But CA didn't and in February Flake decided that she wanted to move back into her home.  Surprise. (not really)

Why do I care?

When CA was little his Mother moved them  back in with Grandma, hopped on the welfare wagon and left the majority of the child-rearing to her.  So Grandma really sees him more like a son than a grandson.  So when he found out that Flake was kicking them to the curb he started harassing Grandma about how much he misses his childhood home, and LOOK at how I'm letting it fall to pieces, and she's lived there soooo long and is just too lazy to get her own place.

Firstly, the house is in better condition than when I got there.  I work full time, and my days off are split.  So unless there is a holiday I don't get two days off from work in a row.  Despite kicking my husband to the curb a few months after I moved there, I've still managed to get holes in the wall repaired, painting done, installed a dishwasher,  brought the front yard under control (and had the back well on it's way), cleaned 40 years worth of crap out of the house and garage, and spent hundreds of dollars on trips to the dump and donation centers.  During the course of some of these jobs I've discovered issues that are more than one-day jobs.  Two rooms had drywall issues covered by wallpaper that are going to mean either extensive patching or outright replacement before anything else can be done.  The fence that divides the backyard was not installed correctly and is (surprise) falling down.   The dryer does not have a direct vent going to the outside of the house.  The galvanized pipes are corroded and should have been replaced years ago, so while the water pressure going in the house is great, good luck with a shower.  There are always mice in the cupboards and I don't even want to speculate on whether there is mold in the walls.

Second, I don't want to be living there.  It's a POS and if I had the money I'd be happy to leave.  I miss being able to call a land  But I barely earn enough for a studio apartment in a bad neighborhood.  So being Lazy isn't it.  CA on the other hand earns more than I do and his girlfriend gets Alimony and Child Support from her Ex.  Why can't they find another place to live then?  Why does the person with no money and children who are actually biologically related get told that they need to move?  Almost forgot, my brother has lived with me since my ex left, and he's unemployed.  Yup, that's one more person who I feed and pay for that is getting kicked out because of this.

Tell me it doesn't just scream "favoritism" no matter which way you turn it.

So I'm furious, stressed, scared, upset, and a hundred other things.  It's possible that my boss might give me a raise to help, but business has been so bad I don't feel good about it.  I'll take it, but it's not the way I wanted to get a raise, by any means.

Part of me just wants to go out and find someplace new RIGHTNOW because I don't like not knowing where I'm going to go.  I don't like leaving on a trip without knowing which hotel I'm headed toward.  Unsettled is a bad feeling, and I hate it.  But on the other hand I should be saving money for the move and getting myself prepared.  And today I thought of the kicker.  I need to get my divorce filed before I move.

Why haven't I already filed?

I could give you a bunch of reasons, but I won't.  In this, I'm being lazy.  Yes the Ex said he'd do it, but he didn't.  (No Surprise)  I'm just hoping magic divorce fairies will appear and grant my wishes to be legally un-hitched from this ball-and-chain.  If I move it's more than likely going to back to the city where I grew up/work etc.  But it's a different county which complicates things.  So I made an appointment with a firm that helps you file your own stuff if you're in an uncontested case and skip actually hiring an attorney.  Which as long as I don't get greedy this is.  Keeping amicable with an abusive ex sucks, but he knows I'll be kinder than any judge so we're playing nice for everyone's sake. Maybe I'll become the Bitch Ex from Hell later.  But now I just want him out of my life as much as possible.

The fact that I need to do it before my move should work to my advantage though.  I think as long as I don't change counties till after I'm filed I should be good. . .but that means that I'm not moving till that first court date.  Sorry CA, gotta fulfill legal obligations before I go.  I'm also leaving that last load and a half that should go to the dump in the garage.  It'll be your problem to deal with.

Working Dog

This morning, I brought the dog to work. The boys are with their dad for a few days and there was plenty of room in the car so Kida is gonna keep me company.  Her biggest problem so far is that everytime someone walks by she wants to interact and pouts if they don't.  Whiny kids have been replaced by whiny dog.  I know she doesn't need to be let outside this often - she lasts all day while I'm at work.  And it's not that she's getting less interaction overall, because normally the kids and cats do their own stuff during the days we're at home.  I've taken her out back to the warehouse to play fetch, which got her to lay down for a little bit.  But now there are people starting to show up for guitar lessons . . .sigh.  

I dug out Mom's old sewing machine - it got left in the warehouse during one of the many moves.  It's in this sewing machine cabinet that weighs more than some full-size dressers that I've owned.  I've put off bringing it home for a couple of reasons.  First the garage was filled with a mountain of crap that my relatives had left there over the years.  Leaving me no room for any of my stuff, like boxes of Christmas decorations, painting supplies, and extra furniture to go in there.  Now that I don't have to devote a corner of the living room to the holidays year-round I have room to put the cabinet there.  Which brings the second reason, the aforementioned weight.  I don't have a truck.  So getting it home requires borrowing a vehicle with an extra set of hands included.  Now I am NOT the kind of person who has an easy time buying clothes that fit off the rack.  Apparently designing clothes for women with boobs is. . . I don't know. . . harder?  I read the other day that the average cup-size of women has increased.  Why haven't designers made adjustments for that?  They still design large shirts like the women who wear them are little more than tube-shaped.  So my clothes could always use tweaking.  My boys are skinny little farts and while we've got a number of pairs with the elastic/button pull-string adjusters in them, being able to give a waist band a tuck myself would open up more options.  Not to mention repairs.  Good God, summer is coming and there WILL be playing outside and repairs WILL be needed.  Since the machine has sat unused since I was in middle school, it needs to be serviced. . . and it only occurred to me today after I plugged it in (yay! basic functioning happens) that I can take the machine OUT of the cabinet. . . Part of me wants to pull it out right now and stick it in the car.  The other part is saying "You are out of money till next payday, leave it alone so it won't clutter up the house and possibly be damaged because you can't resist messing with it."  

Being a responsible adult sucks sometimes.